


Negotiations and revelations

by Shackett74



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Admiral Michailovich - Freeform, Adrien Victus - Freeform, Alliance Navy HQ, Arcturus Station, F/M, Fleet Admiral Hackett, Mating Bond, Military Ranks, Negotiations, Primarch Fedorian - Freeform, References to Sex, Turian Hierarchy - Freeform, Turian general - Freeform, Turians, the reapers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:07:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26137840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shackett74/pseuds/Shackett74
Summary: A plot heavy fic in several chapters marking the end of ME2.While Commander Jane Shepard is heading to Vancouver to face the first overwhelming days without her ship, the day isn't over for Admiral Steven Hackett either. Nor are the surprises, as his second VIP visitor for the day arrives.A turian general from the Hierarchy on Palaven...Admiral Hackett's preparations for a war with an overwhelming enemy continues. But will he get the turian Hierarchy to commit fully?
Relationships: Steven Hackett & Female Shepard, Steven Hackett/Female Shepard
Kudos: 9





	1. Revelations in two acts

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of a long epilogue to Transformations and Beginnings Anew part II, albeit possible to read independently.  
> NOTE: Also, the reference to "mating bond" is a deviation from Sarah J Maas A court of... series, remade.
> 
> Also, a BIG thanks to Cavaticarose for very valuable Beta-help in chapter 3!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Series summary: March 2186, day zero of Commander Shepard's handover and detention process.  
> In the aftermath of mind blowing 48 hours, Admiral Hackett tries to get his bearings straight. 
> 
> The SR-2 Normandy is back with the Alliance Navy, as is finally Jane Shepard. 
> 
> But despite those utterly mind-blowing events, the day is far from over. For now a VIP visit from the turian Hierarchy awaits. It is time to discuss the Reapers and assess how the turians really view the Reaper threat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite being an important meeting between only two high ranking officers, it ended up in several chapters. There were so much to explore, new impressions of Arcturus station and of each other. Thoughts, emotions and reactions to environment and each other. 
> 
> So what can I say, I'm sorry and hopeless but at least did my best to make it as short as possible. ;-)
> 
> *Magna Cum Laude is latin for the highest possible grade or effort/training/
> 
> *TIS = Turian Intelligence Services  
> TCI = Turian Counter Intelligence

**Prologue**

~ The turian general and emissary ~  
  
 ** _The Equatorial_** , Turian diplomatic vessel  
 **Destination** : Arcturus station, Alliance Naval HQ

The dossier on the human Fleet Admiral Steven Hackett was thin, alas often the case when the Hierarchy didn't use Salarian intel.  
But with an important and informal meeting like this - military to military - the Hierarchy had wisely decided not to include any intel of the busybody Salarians and risk their meddling.

With a finished meal on the small, pewter-like table in front of him, the stately looking general was engrossed in the dossier of the person he was soon about to meet.

His grey head-plates and striking face was embellished with an intricate pattern of white markings stretching down to his mandibles and mouth. The pattern revealed his kinship to an ancient Palaven family, one of the oldest and honored with a long line of soldiers and officers. Blackwatch-special forces, generals and even one or two Spectres could be found in their family history.  
So the family name obligated, yet he wore his clan markings proudly and reminding him of who he was and where he came from, rejuvenated him when he felt weak and spoke of glory when he doubted himself. 

The general had spent most of his life of servitude in the military, just as every other turian, then continuing as an officer when he realized the soldier's life suited his perhaps restless mind. Now he had held the rank of Field General for many years and to be honest it was the only world he knew. 

With this particular mission however, his first of a more diplomatic kind with humans, the general had been forced to yield his armor, his second skin, for a formal wear that made him feel terribly naked and vulnerable.

"But I'm not a diplomat, Primarch," he'd retorted brazenly to Fedorian, not really knowing what he objected to when the Primarch had told him a few days ago that he was to be the Hierarchy's emissary to Arcturus station.

"All the better", Fedorian had answered nimbly with an reassuring base tone to his subvocals, almost as if expecting the general's reply.

"But you can't visit the Systems Alliance Naval Headquarters in armor, how would that look?"

The Primarch was correct of course and Victus lowered his face in deference.  
One comment fused with dry humor was all it took for Fedorian to settle the matter and have his general fell in line as any good and loyal turian.

¤¤¤  
The unforeseen and recent initiative from Alliance HQ had stirred quite the surprise within the Hierarchy as the invitation wasn’t sent through the usual diplomatic channels but from the Admiral's office ‐ and the Fleet Admiral himself, it turned out.

And here he was, on a small diplomatic vessel with ten cozy, upholstered armchairs a few tables and a two-people retinue, on his way to Arcturus station to assess the Reaper threat. And if need be discuss, and perhaps negotiate, the possibilities of pooling resources against these Reapers.

Yes, it was all a great honor, and yet he felt slightly ambivalent to leave his soldiers on Menae so soon after having dealt with the turian separatists on Taetrus.

But the Primarch had chosen him, he'd explained, in part because the general was open minded and considered reasonable yet shrewd, and in part due to his 'unorthodox' tactics. "Something I believe you and the Fleet Admiral have in common", the Primarch had added, voice and features suddenly enigmatic.

"Do you mind elaborating, sir?" oncemore the general dared a brazen question bit it didn't deter Fedorian who's enigmatic mask disappeared as quickly. 

"I know of your curiosity of the Citadel's most recent member, my friend," he told his witty general, _but_ you are curios and intrigued without loosing your healthy skepticism on rapid human advancements in the galaxy."

Shrugging at the memory, the striking turian general looked out at the dark void dotted with its beautiful colors of flickering stars and nebulae far away, the white markings mirroring clearly back in the window and pondered his secret admiration for humanity's flexibility and their quick, skillful adaptation to new environments and circumstances.

Somehow Fedorian must have figured that fascination out.

Shifting in his comfortable seat the general had enough experience of humans since the Relay 314-incident to know that they could be unscropulous opportunists too, no question about that. But where humans worse than the rigid batarians or sneaky salarians? the general didn't think so. Besides, the Alliance had for the larger part followed the Council's advice and regulations and honored their treaties which in his opinion showed their reliability.

Shrugging at his expectant thoughts he returned to the dossier in his unarmored lap.

**Affiliation** : System's Alliance  
 **Rank and name:** _Fleet Admiral_ Steven Hackett  
 **Office** : Head of Alliance Navy and military  
 **Home planet, city:** Earth, Buenos Aires  
 **Age** : 53 [?]  
 **Family name and ties:** None. _[As far as we can determine, he doesn't have a family and is considered fiercely devoted to the Alliance Navy.]_

  
**Background:**

  * Born in the megatropolis of Buenos Aires on Earth, Hackett became an orphan at twelve years of age, just before attending the Advanced Academy for Juveniles.
  * Six years later, Steven Hackett graduated top of his class, with [astonishing] magna cum laude in all [our comment and underline] courses. This despite a considerable amount of extra courses. 



Given the Fleet Admiral's early affliction for sciences, technology and mathematics, the man must have had a bright future before him as an engineer or the like had he chosen it, the general surmised intrigued.

  * Enlisted and participated in the Naval marine boot camp in 2152, despite the above mentioned.
  * A top graduate from the marine boot camp, the youngster volunteered for high-risk operations within the newly founded System's Alliance, and among else activating at least one dormant relay.  
[Comment: _We haven't been able to confirm or get further details on this claim, however, only that it wasn't the Relay 314._ ]



**Career:**

  * In 2156, his superior skills and talents in tactics and leadership came to the attention of, among else, Admiral Jon Grissom, and Hackett was commissioned as Second lieutenant on Arcturus station the same year. 
  * Hackett swiftly rose through the ranks, additional strategic talents also became evident.
  * Through an impressive array of exceptional skills in leadership, tactics and strategy the daring and enterprising male became the youngest ever human Admiral at age 36, in 2170.
  * Another noticable, but not widely known achievement, is the push Hackett made as Fifth Fleet commander for the joint human-turian collaboration and development of the SR1 "Normandy". [Comment: _The ship would soon became more known for other things but it was an Alliance Fifth Fleet initiative, and despite its different commanders and reputation, it actually assigned to the Fifth Fleet which has come to oversee._ ] 



**Character traits:** Curious, highly intelligent, prudent, honorable, and steadfast. Pragmatic, judicious and even-handed. Extremely well educated. No bias against any race although it is said the Fleet Admiral isn't overly fond of Batarians.

**Commanding traits:** A tactical and strategic mastermind. Unpredictable, relentless and cunning in battle. Patient, but also unorthodox. As far as we can discern the Admiral prefers to prepare accordingly before attacking to lessen unknown factors. But when attacking he is said to be like the _ta'arguna_ who never releases it's prey. 

Deeply loyal and explicitly considerate towards the Navy, his crew and subordinates, which is likely one of the reasons behind his immense popularity within the Alliance military. Beyond that also considered to be a skilled leader with vast insights in the psyche.

**A Note of Vaution** : The Fleet Admiral is said to be a tough but fair negotiator and shouldn’t be underestimated under any circumstances. 

[ _Compiled by; Castus Roscio, Dep. of CI, TI_ ]

The general looked up from the dossier and took a moment to process what he had read, and glanced out of the small window again onto the starlit sky and the cold, beautiful void harboring them in the Arcturus sky.

There was something deeply intriguing with this particular human, sifting through his mind in search for why before it dawned on him.

An _orphan_ from a poor family, without any real legacy or clan to claim him, or for that matter to support him, the general thought in awe. An orphan who against all odds had succeeded and reached all the way to the highest position within the System's Alliance Navy.

Something like that was unheard of among his people and therefore all the more astonishing, admirable even. And orphan might very well reach far, become an officer even as the turian society was well organized. But he would never have reached the echelon, the Hierarchy, without a very influental mentor or being adopted. And an orphan would most definitely not have become a Primarch.

Meroticracy or no. 

With a feet on his other knee the general closed the dossier and an awestruck exhale made his dual chords vibrating.

Everything or nothing could come out of this meeting and he felt the weight of responsibility Fedorian had put onto his shoulders.

Looking out a final time through the tiny window he prepared himself mentally for the meeting, as _The Equatorial_ went inbound to Arcturus station.

This could very well become a showdown but he hoped not, rather hoping to learn more about the man and the humans. 

He and Fedorian shared the same view, that it was better to have them on their side, as a close and reliable ally hopefully, than roaming about the galaxy.

I **Arcturus** **Station, Naval HQ**

~ Steven Hackett ~

_She ripped through my defenses and turned me into a pile of smoldering ashes, soft and blissful inside, just like that. Hard earned iron will and focus flying out the airlock._

Hackett had tried to collect the scraps of dignity, focus and self discipline without much success for the last hour.  
Uncharacteristic fluffy little clouds of content happiness roamed inside of him making him feel on top of the world, but unfortunately unable to concentrate at all.

And in the wake of what had taken place his conscience began catching up on him as well, for more reasons he could count.

His responsibilities as a higher ranking officer, if not formally hers right now, was one reason why. And now his self discipline had slipped so utterly that he didn't know if he wanted to borrow his head in his hands or hug the entire world. Except for the Batarians - a line had to be drawn somewhere after all. The ironic humor popping up, caused him to snort at himself.

The crux was, reasoned the affronted Admiral part of him, that people placed hard earned trust in him and they leaned on him to be impeccable, unfaltering and trustworthy at every possible turn. Their trust was something he took pride in meeting, especially the higher up he had climbed the ranks. He believed in those serving the Navy and they in him, every day. And what if they knew how he had let himself give in for his private feelings and attraction for a former commander in the Fifth fleet who was almost half his age to make matters worse?... A bewildered, languid moan left the man were he had sat down, hands folded between his knees and he shook his head as the full ramifications hit him.

Hackett carefully glanced over at the desk he shied right now and shook his head, it was an odd thing but he could feel her scent on him as vividly still creating a new urge of longing for her and a warm physical sensation that rippled up and down his body.

All his still fluffy, hormone-puffed up brain returned to was how _she_ had felt when he finally - so surprisingly - had tugged her tight to him, the firm curves of her back and hips underneath his hands, her feminine, alluring scent still lingering in his nostrils, or her teasing fingers as of burning embers, grazing over the skin of his abdomen and lower, setting him on fire completely. 

Or the incredible sensation of her sensual, moist lips against his, parting in welcoming submission for his tongue when he hadn't been able to hold back anymore.

"Commander Jane Shepard, you are as dangerous to your enemies as you are to me, obviously." 

That said, no one would know of what had taken place in this office, his personal life was no one's business, no matter how much he had slipped today and broke his rule to not indulge intimately with women under his command, nor with any officers since Ines. He wouldn't have let anyone else near but with Shepard he'd lost it completely.

He, the Admiral with the iron grasp on will and self discipline. An ironic snort left him at that and rolled his eyes at the same time a scowl _and_ smile tugged inside to be set free.

The swift changes in mood was something else he wasn't used to.

"What sort of officer would even do such a thing as I'd done here today?" The incredulous, earnest question just hung in the silence of the dim, empty office as the night cycle had begun outside the window. Hadn't it been so obvious that Shepard wanted what happened as much as he had, he would have felt tremendously ashamed, as if taking advantage of her when she was the most vulnerable. And that was reason number three why the events also chafed on his conscience.

Contemplative but restless he leaned back in the lounge group armchair, uniform jacket still only partially buttoned and revealing the russet shirt underneath the Admiral's blue and golden coat from when Shepard had snuggled her arms around him one final time before leaving. And as quickly the pensive and slightly berating thoughts was replaced by the fluffy little clouds again and it took a while before Steven realized he smiled again. 

It wasn't rocket science he supposed, he had fallen - hard - for the spirited, skilled and gritty N7 and commander.  
 _  
David was right about everything,_ he thought and looked over at the magnificent Rumi on the other side from him, and a new heartfelt smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

_Today_ was as inconvenient as it was convenient, though. Convenient because she was not - yet - under his direct chain of command, which she probably had grasped more quickly than he had. But also very inconvenient due to the turian emissary soon arriving.  
Steven sighed at that and wished they could have changed the date for his turian guest, but to even suggest it with such short notice would have been contra productive and disrespectful. Okafor had warned him yesterday already, and was correct of course - besides turians appreciated to keep things set and fixed. 

And the Alliance, the _galaxy_ , he corrected himself, couldn't afford to risk any setbacks now. 

Hackett rose and headed for the coffee machine to make his last cup of coffee for today - a cappuccino while he did his best to regain the scraps of concentration and edge. Later, reflect on your private life later, he thought pleadingly to himself while the machine chugged and fizzed in front of him and checked the clock and sighed. It was less than an hour left now until he would meet the general.

_Swoon all you want -_ tonight _._ _But.not.now,_ the Admiral side of him pleaded in despair, so unaccustomed not to be in charge.

He drew a ragged breath to ground himself, a hand brushing through his uneven and flat, grey hair, and drank deeply from his coffee before he cautiously threw a dubious look over at the mess on his over-dimensioned desk - a legacy from his predecessor who apparently believed that a Fleet Admiral was entitled to the largest desk in the galaxy.

His mind's comment lured a chuckle out of him at least, but how on Earth would he ever be able to work at that desk again without intrusive images interfering, visions of what Shepard and he had done on it, two feet from his face?

How her delectable body been splayed on it in front of him while he... He did a full stop and reverse on all thoughts - again.

_This doesn't_ work _!_ Except for one specific body part that worked flawlessly and happily reacted, as if his owner was still an eager, delighted teenager. Steven rolled his eyes incredulously, while the prickly Admiral part of him didn't even deign to pay attention by looking down.

Yes, he would most definitely have to avoid any deskwork until the meeting was over at least, or the visions would wreck him completely. A sense of shame filled him momentarily as _beginner's mistake_ roared in his mind before it disappeared as quickly, quenched by the strong sense of blissful well being reappearing. 

"This simply won't _do!"_ Steven blurted out in annoyance, and his tone alerted the digital VI secretary. 

"Admiral, are you in need of assistance?" it chirped gaily.

Steven looked up at the ceiling for a moment, sheepishly, grey brows furrowed. _What?  
_ A barking laugh erupted, releasing itself from his throat and first he laughed at the innocent but very misplaced comment the VI wouldn't comprehend.

Then it turned into a liberating, joyous laugh, one he hadn't heard in years, at his own futile struggle to regain control of himself as much as the inevitable playing out here. 

Chuckling for a long time afterward he unceremoniously slumped down in his brown chesterfield armchair, coffee in his hand.

Unintentionally that laughter had been a tension-releaser he needed badly. "Play the part of how Cerberus managed to built the SR-2 without us knowing," he ordered the VI and leaned back, placing one ankle over the other knee and sipped on his special brew.

_That_ intel from Shepard had almost got his blood boiling of rage before, and might help him focusing now. 

As he listened to it again, Cerberus sneaky actions did indeed manage to annoy him, and as that annoyance grew some of his usual, irrefutable focus returned. 

But intent on listening and rebuilding his concentration and edge, one other detail actually slipped his conscious mind - the lazy, caressing circles his fingertips brushed over the worn, velveteen smooth skin of the armchair.

As if it was someone else’s skin they longed to graze over. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Orcus is latin for ‘hell’ or underworld. 
> 
> *Multiple POV's that shift between the general and Hackett alternately, but for the most part I think I've remembered to mark the shifts with "...". 
> 
> *As for their conversation about “stims” I do not encourage the usage of it, but find it an interesting subject for f ex the special forces or for officers during long battles, like the Battle for Earth. If they use it during special circumstances, how is it then used safely, would it be supervised by medical experts somehow? Or regulated somehow?

**II The meeting,** Arcturus station

~ Turian general ~

By the time the docking procedure for visiting foreign dignitaries was complete, a representative from the turian legation on Arcturus requested to come onboard their vessel.

The representative - _the_ Castus Roscio - turned out to be female and appeared eager to offer some last minute updates.

"You're the one who collected the dossier on the Fleet Admiral?" 

Roscio nodded simply, "yes, sir" and sounded as if she might have a daring 'how so?' on her tongue.

He didn't bother to ask why the dossier had been so thin or why the handsome agent wore such a male-sounding name. Their ways would part soon enough anyway.

"We have just received intel that seem..." Roscio searched for words, "to put even more weight behind the Fleet Admiral's concern about the Reapers. We're not sure if the Admiral and Alliance have further intel, but it's enough for us to recommend all the more careful consideration to what potential cooperation the Fleet Admiral might suggest tonight."

Victus threw a concerned glance at her and Strix, who eyed Roscio intently. He waited a moment but when Roscio said nothing he requested with a drawl, perhaps a bit harsher than intended.

"Care to inform me?.." 

"I'm sorry general," unperturbed the agent buried her head down over her data-pads. "We've just recently received intel relayed by the salarian STG, about the Bahak incident and are still piecing it together."

 _Ahh._ The System's Alliance had been tight lipped about that, even in the Council, he'd heard.

"And?.." 

"It seem to be related to the human Dr Amanda Kenson's work on relays"... Castus looked up at the striking general with a grave, weighing look. She admired what he'd achived on Taetrus, the last in a long list of cunning and successful ground operations on his resume. But none of that admiration could be heard in her solemn voice as she continued and they began moving to the doors, ready to depart.

"At least we can confirm what the Alliance Navy stated all along these months - that the Reapers made a new attempt to use a nexus relay to gain entry to the Galaxy."

There was another glance between Strix and him before he simply nodded.

"I get it. Thank you." That was all, and befuddled Castus was unsure whether he had referred to why she had come for them today, or if he pieced together why the top tier among the human Navy took this seriously. It was all the same though, she concluded as they left the vessel and stepped onto Arcturus ground.

...

As soon as he stepped outside, Adrien inhaled deeply - every station had it's distinct scent - this too. A few breaths later he concluded the humidity a tad too high and the temperature a little too cool to be optimal for turians, although not unpleasant but rather a matter of convenience.

Shrugging, he followed Roscio with long strides over to the Alliance shuttle awaiting to bring them to the Naval HQ while the third aide would remain on board the Equatorial in case further news or intel needed to be relayed.

Embarking the small, blue and white painted shuttle, Roscio greeted the human pilot before take off before the soft-spoken agent took it on herself to point out different System's Alliance headquarters, such as the Parliament, as they passed them on their fairly short travel.

More than once he caught her weighing green eyes lingering on him, even and undeterred; not typical turian behavior toward a superior. If she had worked on this station for some time perhaps the human ways had rubbed off on her.

"How long have you been stationed here? He wondered, careful to hide any interest behind a casual tone but she seemed to lit up for a moment.

"Three years now," she answered swiftly.

The station was large but was cramped with basically all System Alliance HQ's. Practical but vulnerable, the general concluded before they soon were dropped off outside an imposing building with it's top floors seemingly stretching up just beneath the dome-like ceiling covering the large station.

The gates into Alliance Naval headquarters lay before them, and a small thrill of anticipation rippled through him as he stood at the large glass-like gates with several marines posted to the sides of it and as soft-spoken turian intelligence-guide efficiently showed them to a smaller gate to the side of the main gate, equally guarded, he couldn't help but wondering if he might be stepping inside a polished and elegant lion's den after all?

"This gate is used for dignitaries and VIP's, she said simply, pointing at it, "and when the security control is done, someone from the Admiralty administration will pick you up", she bowed her head in a respectful farewell with a last glance at the handsome general and left them to enter the security checkpoint. 

...  
Assessing his surroundings the same way he always did new environments, he immediately realized, reluctantly impressed, that the System's Alliance Naval entrance hall was gigantic. Several corridors and floors lead to and from the large, open space together with several elevators with metal doors while glass-railings screened each floor bordering to the entrance hall. 

The architecture of the Naval HQ was a wonder of ingenuity and yet it wasn't all the elegant glass and steel in the architecture that drew his attention to it, but the floor. And what a floor it was, awe on his facial features, mandibles slacked, as he stared unabashedly for quite a while on the stone-like material and the natural looking patterns that permeated it.   
The shifting cream-colored material looked like nothing he had ever seen on a turian world, having a depth to its surface littered with speckles of green, grey, and light red colors. Almost like veins ran through the material, but its surface gleamed polished and gave the floor an unusual depth. A stone? he asked himself quizzically. 

The general took a few fascinated steps onto it, followed by his adjutant. It was as hard as it looked. “Have you seen something like this before, Strix?” he asked his equally intrigued adjutant, whose mandibles flickered. Taciturn and fascinated he simply shook his head.

And in the middle of the large, bright floor a large, magnificent blue Alliance insignia was infused.

 _Magnificent and cocky at the same time_.

Still allured he finally forced himself to look up - otherwise probably looking sheepish - instead studying the humans in their different Alliance uniforms milling about, quiet and effective as far as his military experience could tell. 

Some seemed to belong to administration, while others - if he made his homework well enough - were communications officers, staff- or naval officers.

And here and there on strategic locations throughout the large hall, more soldiers in dark blue armor and berets were posted, their eyes watchful, surveying them as well as all else who moved about in the lofty entrance hall.

The general thought he saw the marines' backs get a tad straighter when an N7 passed by them with hurried steps, and he chuckled amused.

"Some things are simply universal, huh?" he leaned a tad closer and murmured to adjutant Strix, but before the almost equally tall turian could answer his general, a human voice interrupted them. 

"General Victus, Adrien Victus?"

A smiling human female approached them from one and introduced herself as second lieutenant Hamilton.

She was so small, Adrien thought in wonderment, at least two heads shorter than Strix and him, but that didn’t seem to deter the female officer in the least. And her short hair looked like a bird's fuzzy, almost white, nest. 

"The Admiral is on his way", she added affirmative, still smiling in what appeared to be awe as her eyes raked over them. Politely Adrien thanked her before his curiosity about the floor got the better of him and he asked about the bright, magnificent floor.

"Oh, that is a kind of hard stone called marble." She blurted out, now grinning. "It's a very hard stone native to certain areas on Earth and can be polished to shine like this." She made a sweeping gesture, nudging them politely forward with her hand, beaming with pride. 

_A junior officer_ , _still full of awe to serve at the HQ,_ he figured amused. The enthusiasm of the new and fresh was indeed the same no matter if they were turians, humans, or salarians. Or... perhaps _not_ the salarians after all, Adrien corrected himself, _they_ all seemed like enthusiastic freshmen with their energetic, hurried speech and demeanor.

"Sometimes we refer to it as the 'alien trap' though", she revealed merrily and made a giggling sound that Adrien could not quite place, but since she smiled again assumed it was a kind of a laugh. The female was relaxed enough for Adrien to do the same, and they indulged himself in some chit chat. 

“Oh?” Adrien answered half politely and half curious. 

“It seems marble doesn’t exist on any other world, at least not like on Earth, and it is quite uncommon there too, so every time we get non-human visitors they seem enthralled by it, simply staring and staring.” She did that giggling sound again, so different yet not unpleasant. Lieutenant Hamilton peered up at him, Strix having fallen behind, with something looking like admiration written on her face.

"Do you need anything meanwhile, gentlemen? Refreshments? Beverages?”

They shook their heads simultaneously and thanked her.

“Then I'll show you around in the meantime. I take it you don’t know anything about the station’s history? 

While they were shown around humans passed by them occupied by either conversations, silence or digi-pads, the air and scents swirling around in their wake were distinctly different from Palaven. Not in a bad way though, and not repulsive, simply different.  
And perhaps a tad more humid than on Palaven - or Menae - too for that matter. 

Then it were rather the scents from the males and females that followed them that caused Adrien some uneasiness, flushed as they were with artificial scents. _How odd_ , he mused quietly to Strix, _why in all the spirit’s names would they want to drench their natural scents like this?!_

When he suddenly and involuntarily sneezed just next to lieutenant Hamilton, she literally jumped seemingly scared to death.

“Dear Lord, now you scared me!” She blurted out and made a gesture with her strange, multi-fingered human hand to her chest. 

Uncertain whether she understood the turian equivalent of a smile, Adrien tried one nonetheless and apologized. Curious but unsure whether it would seem impolite to ask why so many among the humans wore manufactured scents, but finally his curiosity took over.

The answer was equally surprising as it was fascinating. 

“Yes, they're manufactured scents that human males and females buy after their fashion and liking,” she explained to them as if it was the most obvious thing in the world - in their world at least.  
“Either to enhance our own female or male scents, alternatively to reduce scents from human exudations. It’s a customary tradition that permeates all cultures on Earth and goes back thousands of years.”

It simply sounded extraordinary to a turian and Adrien believed it to be illogical, but kept that to himself as the junior lieutenant proudly announced the Fleet Admiral's arrival.

“Here the Admiral comes!” 

And the general needn’t be an expert on human expressions and body language to notice the immense awe and respect in the female officer’s features. Looking over in the direction she gazed, Adrien saw a grizzled man of average height pacing briskly and confidently toward them from an elevator, indisputable capability following in his wake, like an invisible yet tangible aura. 

The general cocked his head and assessed the human male closing the distance fast between them. The grey hair, wrinkles and scar on the man’s face made him look older, but his gait contradicted that impression. There was sheer power in those steps as much as in those eyes now fixed on him over the distance of hall. 

This was going to be very interesting indeed, Adrien concluded silently as his host let up a relaxed half-smile the last few feet that softened his stern features considerably, and jutted out his hand to Victus. Lieutenant Hamilton saluted in attention straight enough to even please a turian drill sergeant, Victus noted as he reached for the Admiral’s hand.

“General Victus! You are most welcome to Arcturus station.”

The general looked into the man’s remarkable light blue eyes, like a snowstorm over a blue sky, when he picked up a distinct mix of scents lingering on the man and clinging to his skin and immaculate uniform. 

Stopping dead in his tracks, Adrien’s hand hanging limp in midair. “The pleasure isss…..” was all he said, seemingly bewildered.  
_What in the name of all…?_

The stately human male before him _reeked_ of lingering scents of a female, of having… just recently…  
Adrien refused to finish his line of thought, so improbable and unseemly despite it being evident, but his nose and scent glands were sharper than many turian's, and they sure didn’t lie now. 

_What is going on?! Some kind of misplaced attempt of a joke to get me off balance?_

Thankfully the Admiral seized the moment and nimbly grasped his hand in a firm handshake then neatly gestured to Adrien to come along, smoothly saving their greeting from becoming completely disastrous.

There was no ill-intent nor glee in the Admiral's demeanor or scent however, on the contrary Adrien believed he had seen surprise and concern flashing by in his host's face when they shook hands. But the lingering scents on him, his clothes and skin was disturbing.

Confused Adrien mumbled a “thank you”, trying to get his bearings straight. 

"At ease lieutenant, and thank you for taking care of my guest" the Admiral took a few moments to acknowledge the beaming junior officer who gazed in awe and utter admiration at the man.

Adjutant Strix remained behind Adrien however - and therefore simply got a politelook and nod from the Admiral. And thank the spirits for that, otherwise this would have been really awkward - and did his best to disregard the strong scents still clinging to the man’s skin and clothes. 

Being relieved rendered Adrien a slightly surprised expression from Strix but he made a reassuring facial gesture and the adjutant simply nodded deeply and halted, leaving the two commanders to themselves. 

…  
Hackett had no clue whatsoever what happened as he was about to greet their rare VIP-guest.   
The tall, almost majestic turian male, embellished with white markings on his gray head plates had simply halted as if all of a sudden being perplexed by something. Concerned he hoped that this incident wouldn’t be an indicator of their _entire_ meeting. 

_That would be_ _really_ _unfortunate_.

But whatever it was that had occurred moments before the general appeared to recover from it quickly, perhaps helped by the tour Steven did with his guest around the Naval HQ entrance area, pointing put different sections before entering the elevators. There Victus had sent away his adjutant, a sign of either trust or confidence Steven assumed.

The Alliance Naval HQ didn’t look like a Naval HQ on any turian world. Adrien was told that the two top floors housed the Admiralty and staff, but on regular intervals, large plants and greeneries littered the bright corridors together with paintings of strange-looking ships or maps of Earth, or of star systems in a beautiful array of colors. 

The entire environment appeared unusually...cozy compared to any turian equivalent, Adrien pondered before stopping before a large, beautiful painting of an odd-looking ship, so alien to his turian pre-understanding, yet sleek and beautiful in its forms, floating on large waves of water. And it hit him that whatever it was it but must have been powered by wind power.. 

"What is this, Admiral?" he inquired curiously, and the grizzled Admiral returned to stand alongside Adrien. 

"Ahh, that's the Cutty Sark from the 19th century, it's a sailing ship, tall ship, beautiful isn't it? Hackett asked and added suddenly, "it's actually painted at about the same time our industrial revolution began. That revolution that eventually would throw humanity - or parts of it at least - into the space age." Hackett had began turning away from the large painting but threw a considerate look back at the painting. "It's very easy to forget that back then, ships like her were still the only means we had to travel the large oceans to other continents."

Adrien didn't care if the Admiral saw his mandibles flicker, a sign of astonishment, for this was indeed an incredible revelation. _Wind power! They still used windpower to transport themself._ Then he noticed the year written beneath the painting - 1869. 

"How long ago was this?" he asked his host fascinated an increasing insight growing in him. Admiral Hackett politely waited by Adrien's side with hands behind his back, impassive and patiently.

"About three hundred years ago" the Fleet Admiral replied evenly. 

_Spirits!_ , then he had interpreted the year of the painting correctly. In merely three hundred years humanity had mastered their industrial and technological revolution that every space-faring species most undergo! It was a feat that had taken his own people far more than a thousand years... Adrien turned around and simply looked in pure awe at the Admiral - who met his probing gaze calmly, then shrugging. 

"On a galactic scale such rapid development rival even the Salarians, Admiral." 

"Indeed it does, general... Shall we?" Admiral Hackett gestured politely to continue but Adrien could have sworn another of those flashing half-smiles played on the Admiral's lips before it disappeared again, not smug only....assertive. But as they left the gigantic painting of that beautiful ship, Adrien wondered if the Hierarchy _really_ knew how enterprising humans apparently were. Meeting it upfront like this certainly gave valuable, pragmatic perspectives but as he once more walked up alongside his host Adrien wondered if this perhaps also was a reason to be cautious around humans?

...   
Bisecting the corridors at regular intervals were either other corridors or open areas with desks and terminals - or conference rooms. Slightly disappointed the general thought he glimpsed the actual Naval CIC but unfortunately, Admiral Hackett didn’t take him there. 

His otherwise surprisingly suave host explained the structure of the Alliance Navy in loose terms as they went on, Adrien asking follow-up questions meanwhile and the two echelon officers were soon caught up in mutual and heartfelt complaints about the stupidity of bureaucracy and tendency to politicization of the military. 

It was less of a problem among his people than for humans though, the turian society being more militarized and fixed than the more rapidly changing human society. On the other hand the Fleet Admiral seemed hellbent on avoiding any further tendencies of bureaucracy, but from what Adrien knew about the structure of the System's Alliance and its Parliament, he suspected that could be difficult. 

Adrien’s chain of thoughts was interrupted when they once more passed by what must be a Comm hub of some sort. It had the same type of more open landscape with desks, but just as they passed another closed and guarded door it opened and when Adrien threw a glance into it he saw a group of officers and _several_ QEC platforms.

There were not one or two, not three or even four, but many more. The curiosity – and a quick flash of childish jealousy, hurriedly smothered, grabbed hold of Victus and he blurted out his question before he could stop himself and jerked his chin toward the closed door.

“How many platforms was that?” 

The Fleet Admiral chuckled softly and peered over at him with those notable blue eyes, now unsettling as they surveyed him, probing and weighing. Impenetrable, but not hostile in any sense.

“Eight,” Admiral Hackett said evenly and strode on.

 _Eight? Spirits!_ Pure awe flashed by inside the turian as he took a large step and came up alongside the human.

 _One for each Fleet Commander, I bet!_ The general in him was in total covetous awe, it must have cost them a fortune, surmising as they continued through the corridors. walked up to what appeared to be the Admiral’s office at the end of a corridor with another bisecting corridor, forming the two corridors into a T. 

Down to the left into the bisecting corridor, a tanned and almost bald officer with the cap under his arm came walking, too far away to be spoken to. The man looked baffled at them however and threw lukewarm, unsympathetic looks at Adrien as the Fleet Admiral unlocked his office and didn't deign a glance down the corridor. Adrien was pretty sure though that the Admiral had seen the man while unlocking his office. 

The doors opened with a muffled, swooshing sound and with a large, five-fingered hand - and how humans could keep all those fingers from tangling was beyond Adrien - the Admiral gracefully motioned for him to enter, revealed smoothly to Victus in a low voice. 

"Never mind Mikhailovich, general. He's one of my Fifth fleet commanders and one hell of a cunning tactician but also a grumpy xenophobic - among else - unfortunately."

Then, almost as an afterthought, the Fleet Admiral added, "I suppose the Hierarchy got some of that kind too, _no_?"

Victus chuckled and nodded, "indeed we have, sir," and entered the large office of Alliance Navy's highest-ranking officer. 

The first thing noticed when the emissary stepped inside Fleet Admiral Hackett’s dignified office was the multiple bookshelves that littered the majority of the Fleet Admiral's walls and which were filled with what actually looked like old books. That possibility blew Adrien's mind and normally they would instantly have caught Victus’ interest, the maps too. 

But the second thing that hit the general with full force was something else entirely - and it made him lose his composure and attention entirely.

Inundating waves of scented impressions, imprints, and lingering emotions drenched his entire being with full force and shredding his focus into pieces, all in a blink of an eye. Literally staggering inside the office the sensations were almost blinding and caused him to lose his orientation a few feet into the Admiral's office.

While Victus was unable to move further inside, Hackett almost walked into his large, fringed back, unaware of what had just occurred to his guest as he looked down the corridor where Boris, fortunately, had disappeared into his office.

With eyebrows furrowed in concern as Steven took three swift, lithe steps around the turian and motioned for the doors to close behind them meanwhile.

"Is everything all right, general?"

The concern was evident in the low, graveled voice as the bright blue, penetrating gaze raked over the turian’s face and fiercely moving mandibles.

But for a breathtaking moment the only thing that met Hackett was silence, while Victus unusual amber eyes seemed lost somewhere far away. 

It wasn't that he _saw_ actual pictures, it was so much more complex when scents were involved for a turian - especially when this fiery.

_Spirits! It’s a damn mating bond. It's has to be!_

In his mind the collected imprints from both the Admiral and the female roared in relentless hunger, almost agonizing in its intensity, and pulling him down with them. A shaky breath left him - their emotions had been deeply suppressed. An astonished general almost lost his footing as the scents and imprints whirled in a frenzy around him.

 _Did humans even have Mating Bonds_ , Adrien asked himself rhetorically in silence, dumbfounded and flabbergasted alike.

"Shall I call for your aide, general?" The Fleet Admiral tried again. Either the turian emissary was very upset with something, or suddenly ill.

 _Can turians suffer from epilepsy?_ Puzzled Steven silted through his memories and knowledge of the biology of the turian race. Meanwhile, his bewildered guest did his best to break free from the reek of crippling raging scents and sputtering imprints conveyed.

What could only have been a few seconds felt like an eternity being caught in a maelstrom that finally and slowly began to wear off.  
Inhaling shakily again the turian hoped he managed to make a calming motion to the Admiral that circled him wearily and worried, with a scrutinizing gaze, almost like a predator assessing a prey he wasn't entirely sure if it was.

 _You don't have a clue Admiral, have you_?

It was simply for Adrien to swoop his realizations under the carpet since there was no way in Orcus that _he_ would become a busybody with the Admiral's private relationship, despite - or because of - the fact that the human male apparently not had a single clue what was actually going on.

But among turians it was simply referred to as a 'Mating Bond', rare but revered and called a 'bond' because of the strong physical magnetism always pulling the two chosen souls together, but in as much because they were _soul_ mates. 

Whether the two wished it or not.

And today this human male, not a youth anymore despite all his apparent vigor clearly visible in the male's gait, had found his bond mate. A younger, strong and healthy female by the scents. 

"Ahh no, no... it's all right, Admiral." It was a polite lie of course, as Adrien did his best not to shame either his host or himself. 

"Thank you for asking," he added and took another moment to get his bearings straight before he carefully stepped further inside the Admiral's large office.

Troubled and a tad surprised again, the Fleet Admiral motioned Adrien to have a look around while he prepared them some dextro-coffee and tea.

 _It seems like we need it_ , Hackett concluded level-headed, inwardly dumbstruck of what had happened but keeping that to himself, nothing in the intel dossiers on Field general Adrien Victus had revealed anything about an underlying sickness. But if the turian general was sick it was not his business to ask and pry.

Meanwhile Victus eyes had fallen on the Rumi book on display and he slowly went over to investigate it.

"May I?" The Admiral looked up and nodded and the towering turian got caught up among other, more pleasant, sensations instead. Gently he caressed the pages of the large, illustrated Rumi replica, then gingerly over the smooth, velvet-like, ornate cover.

"Paper?" he whispered, his mandibles widening in awe. On Palaven the few remaining paper books were ancient and thousands of years old, hence nothing one kept in an office but rather in a museum. 

"All of it, actually", Hackett retorted with a slight smile and just a tad of humble pride, making a sweeping gesture over the bookshelves. 

"Impressive indeed, Admiral", the turian lauded impressed, moving towards the group of furniture where Hackett had seated himself pouring them their beverage.

"I collect paper books, it's a hobby of mine," Hackett explained cordially and the turian slid into one of the strange-looking chairs and nodded.

"This might actually be the single greatest advantage with having humanity showing up in the galaxy...if you don't mind me saying, sir." Victus added as he grabbed his dextro-coffee, but the Admiral merely shook his head and chuckled again.

"On behalf of humanity we are happy to be of service," he said dryly with a hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth. "But yes coffee _is_ a blessing., although it's Earl Grey tea for my part, this evening."

Hackett was relieved his guest had seemed to have recovered from... whatever this was, and as a matter of fact glad the general and he got along so easily.

"If you don't mind me asking, Admiral, I've heard the Alliance was quite, shall we say, 'liberal' with stims and enhancements in the early days of Alliance Navy?"

Hackett simply nodded. There was no need to lie, which he avoided anyway, not if the human-turian relations would benefit from this meeting.

"It's correct. I grew up and graduated in precisely that environment, so I can affirm it. Although before 2148, enhancements of all sorts were rarer and mostly for those who could afford it."

Glancing over at the old looking map of Earth, the unnerving yet gracious bright blue eyes were lost among nostalgic memories, the general assumed.

"At the Academy in Buenos Aires we were offered several free enhancements like improved eyesight, stamina, and so on. It was," Hackett searched for the right words, "an astonishing possibility for those of us who came from poorer families."

The Admiral's eyes returned to Adrien, raking over the turian and his lavender-blue suit, and stroked his jaw in a slow, thoughtful gesture.

Adrien inclined his head and hoped the Admiral would reveal more from his youth, hoping for it actually, the turian in him once more allured by the subject of a poor orphan reaching the highest possible position within the Alliance Navy. 

Disappointingly enough his host dropped the subject. 

"You know, I think humanity was so hellbent eager on catching up with the other races in whatever means possible, that it took several years before regulations caught up with _us_." Hackett elaborated drily, "regulations that stopped 'experimental enhancements', for example." 

"Now we are considerably more prohibitive with the usage of stims and other enhancements, even more so than you turians are, I believe?" Their eyes locked again in a mutual, pragmatic curiosity - and not in challenge.

"True, however we _do_ have - and not to be condescending, Admiral - many hundred, if not thousands of years of research on the usage of stims." Victus hoped it didn't sound arrogant but the Admiral didn't appear to have taken offense. 

"You're perfectly right, general. And a friend of mine, a specialist on trauma surgery, often relates to this fact. On the other hand have humans used stimulants, or mind-altering drugs, for thousands of years as well," Hackett elaborated before sipping at his tea.

"But it's only in the last, say 250 years, science has put a real interest in this topic. Nowadays extensive research within naval medicine especially has been done on what is safe usage of stims in combat situations."

"And while we're at it I might as well tell you how truly grateful the Navy’s doctors and researchers are for all the possibilities to study alongside you, and share your experiences."

His posture and face was open, genuine and hid nothing to Adrien - but more importantly the Admiral’s scent transmitted honesty. Not that turians had a lie detector in their noses and scent glands but they could pick up mating hormones and most of the stress-related hormones, including strong outbursts due to lies or danger.

"The new angles and continuous understanding of space and organics that these exchanges with you and the other races gives us... Well, it's incredible." Hackett shook his head in awe.

"I didn't know you fancied medicine too, sir?" 

Was there a grin on the turian's face, Steven wondered, a sudden warmth in those piercing crystalline honey eyes? 

"Space medicine is one of...several subjects I follow with interest yes, besides I know the Alliance would be very interested in furthering our cooperation." 

Nodding, Adrien raised his chin upward as he had seen the Admiral do when addressing the VI secretary before and followed up the suggestion with an order to it. "VI, take a note that I, general Adrien Victus, emissary of the turian Hierarchy, will bring forward the specific request of interaction in space medicine, to those it refers to and without delay."

"Noted, sir. Do you wish to send it directly to the Hierarchy or to have a digital copy sent to the Equatorial?" The VI assistant chirped pleasantly.

“To the Equatorial.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Admiral chuckled at the general's initiative and Adrien bowed his head slightly in thanks for using the VI so informally. A half smile once more played on the Admiral’s lips.

"Thank you. I also assume you may have noticed we are a very curious species." It wasn't really a question, rather a self-irony mixed with a hint of what could have been pride.

"You are indeed", Adrien retorted and couldn't help but thinking of the infamous Relay 314 incident. _And we who thought they were aggressive invaders - when they were only curious, like children._

The recollection got Adrien curious and he hoped his host wouldn't be offended if he asked. "If you don't mind me asking, Admiral...is it true that you activated a relay once?"

Hackett inclined his head and something undefined suddenly played in his eyes, "You may general, yes it is true ‐ although not _that_ relay. Which I in hindsight am relieved for.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It turned out these two have a lot to talk about, thus needed some time to feel each other out before Hackett plunges them into the much harsher subject of the Reaper threat (next chapter). 
> 
> It also turned out the two get along really well which suits Hacketts long term plans to benefit turian-human cooperations.
> 
> Besides it's the first time Adrien Victus (and we) visit Arcturus and Alliance Naval HQ - hence a lot to take in and discover for both Victus and us.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The general who wins a battle makes many calculations."  
> ~ (excerpt from) Sun Tzu's Art of War *Laying plans #26)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note 1: Alternating POV here.

Hackett soon learned that the turians wanted guarantees before making any other agreements. The general conveyed the question of whether System's Alliance would keep their end of the Farixen Treaty. And if that's what it would take to get the turians onboard in this, Hackett had no problems with fulfilling their end of the bargain. They had not intended otherwise anyway.

Besides, the _number_ of dreadnoughts wasn't everything, and he sensed that general Victus knew that too. Still, if the tradition-bound turians wished to believe dreadnoughts was all that mattered in space battles, Hackett gladly let them keep that delusion.

The challenge of every important negotiation never failed to spark Hackett's anticipation. But today was different, and in his stomach smoldered worry. The Reaper threat was too serious not to have the turians alongside in a war effort.

"I assume you've heard about the 'Bahak incident'?"

Victus's eyes darted back to meet his own, the look alert but unreadable. 

“Hasn’t everybody?” he replied jauntily.

Hackett’s expression remained impassive as he leaned back in his worn armchair with the now empty cup still in hand. "What I'm about to reveal now is highly classified material, general." Hackett continued as melted copper met blue ice without hostility but in measuring, evaluating fashion. 

"Secret research made by one of our best scientists on relays revealed that the particular relay in Bahak system, in fact, was an ' _alpha_ ' relay." 

Hackett let it sink in. The turians had known of the relays thousands of years before mankind did, so he assumed his guest understood the importance of this statement. It turned out correct.

If there existed any turian equivalent to 'turning pale,' he supposed this was it. The forehead plates lifted on the turian, and the not-quite-lips parted in flabbergasted surprise. The deep hum from inside Victus’s chest wasn’t just in his imagination. 

"However, disaster struck when the Reapers managed to infiltrate the team and indoctrinate them. Had the Reapers succeeded, they would have used that relay to invade in one move..."

¤¤¤

"By the Orcus!!.. Another attempt just like at the Citadel," Adrien Victus breathed, his dual vocal cords vibrating audibly in indignant emphasis. Many among the Hierarchy had thought it an act of cruel revenge by the humans on the batarians. And while there was no love between his people and the slavers, more than one among his peers thought it a heinous act by the humans. 

Now they'd know, and it put it all in a different light.

"Crashing that asteroid into the relay turned out the _only way_ to stop the Reaper invasion. But to an absolutely horrendous price." Hackett shook his head vehemently and Adrien almost missed the sadness that clouded his host's piercing eyes, there for a heartbeat and gone. 

It lingered in his scent though, faint and quickly fading but nevertheless noticeable.

 _He lost someone dear to him in Bahak._ Not the mate obviously, but a dear friend perhaps.

¤¤¤ 

This is it, Hackett thought. Either he got the turians with them now or... And _not_ wasn’t an option.

"I presume the Alliance Navy believes the Reaper threat is truly legit then?"

Hackett looked up, a brow lifting in surprise; the turian's keen amber eyes monitored him. 

"Damn right we do, general. The Joint Chiefs, at least. " 

What bugged Hackett was that neither the Alliance Joint Chiefs nor the AIS could figure out where the Hierarchy stood when it came to the Reaper threat. Perhaps they thought their numbers were minimal, because so far they had few reports of serious, turian preparations. And if the turians would acknowledge the threat formally, it would additionally make other races follow. 

"Let me be frank. The Hierarchy seems...uncommunicative on how you see the Reaper threat. I can only hope your peers take this seriously?.." 

If they didn't, _all_ of the known galaxy - could kiss their buns goodbye, Hackett thought sourly. And what was the matter with his language and temper today?

"I can't state enough how important it is that the turian military understand the severity of this threat, general." 

Adrien nodded, susceptible to the subtle desperation behind the Admiral's appeal. "I understand, Sir. And now I'm even more convinced that the Alliance is correct. The catch is---" 

He fought to control his expression, not liking one bit of what he was about to say. He hoped dearly that the renowned farsighted patience of the Fleet Admiral was real. 

"Several among the other Hierarchy members are…unresolved in this matter because of humanity's rapid climb on the galactic stage."

A stony expression slid down over the Admiral's face; in his eyes, a snowstorm spread. Silently his host motioned Adrien to continue. He dropped Hackett's stare and eyed the bookshelf behind the man, hesitation making it hard to find the right words.

"You need to see it from their angle, Sir. All the evidence and claims we have are made by humans, and especially one single human. Your Commander Shepard."

The Admiral stiffened for a fraction of a moment, the piercing ice in the Admiral's light blue eyes grew considerably harder. 

"I can vouch personally for her credibility if necessary." The biting tone definitely didn't elude Adrien, and in mere moments his nose picked up the exude of mating bond-hormones. Flabbergasted Adrien wondered if the Admiral's bond mate possibly could be... _her_?   
_Spirits, that would be so ironic!_

Shoving away that intriguing question, he prepared to deliver a highly inconvenient truth to his host, realizing he might as well stop beat around the bush.  
"What you may forget is that humanity is a very new race in the galactic society and has risen to glory faster than any race before."

His host's altered scent evaporated again, but the frosty look in Admiral Hackett's eyes remained. 

_He does_ not _like what he hears._ "And rising _too_ fast in many of my colleague's opinions…"

There it was, out in the open. And nothing Adrien was proud to deliver.

The Admiral's clenched teeth and tight jaw was easy to read even for a turian. The Fleet Admiral was known to keep any emotion in tight reins. But no wonder if he didn't on a day like this, Adrien evaluated. Mating bonds were intense and overwhelming, and made the mates fierce in protectiveness as much as ardor or jealousy.

On any other day and circumstance, a mating bond initiation would also have enticed congratulations and merry condolences among his fellow countrymen. Simply because it wasn't easy to handle. 

No, Admiral Hackett probably hadn't know what had hit him earlier. Actually, if the matter of the Reapers hadn't been this dire, his host's worked up protectiveness, would’ve been hilarious.”

¤¤¤ 

General Victus looked down in his lap; head plates moved slightly in what the Admiral took as embarrassment, awkwardness, or discomfort. Hackett wasn't entirely sure. But this was simply ludicrous. How could the Hierarchy interpret it like _this_ ? Why didn't they believe the evidence, believe _Shepard,_ when they were trained military? 

Hackett didn’t blame the general, yet he felt uncharacteristic, ice-cold fury continue forming in his veins. 

Shaking his head, Hackett sat his cup down, disappointment rippling through him. 

"Sir, please understand," Victus appealed. "Several members among the Hierarchy members fought the humans in the Relay incident, directly or indirectly, and more than one is still suspicious of your race." 

The words tumbled out of his mouth and jutted out his hands to elaborate. Undeterred embarrassment tangled on each other inside. 

"When a human became Spectre on top of it all, they let her loose on _Saren_. One of our most beloved citizens." He struck out with his hands, fists clenched and palms upward while he hoped the Admiral would understand the repulsing meaning in the gesture." Naturally, it made many turians suspicious and even less inclined to listen to the 'human evidence,' also among the Hierarchy, I'm afraid."

Victus sighed apologetically. "That's the simple, foul truth."

Slumping in his chestnut leather chair, Adrien didn't know if to feel sorry for the clearly flustered, disheartened Admiral in front of him. Or shake his head at the apparent naïvity even this distinguished mastermind carried. 

He would _not_ reveal to Admiral Hackett how a small minority among his people suspected the evidence was fabricated even...Made up by the humans to better their own position in the galaxy and discredit the turians as revenge for the Relay 314 incident. Thus that Sovereign was an anomaly that acted alone… Hadn't the human bristled before, he might then. 

"How many times haven't humanity proved to the galactic community that however fast our ascent may have been, we're a reliable partner without sketchy ambitions? Heck, even the Batarians know better!" 

"We reached out to the Hierarchy because the galactic life as we know it lijely is about to change dramatically. The Reaper threat _is_ legit and poses a lethal, perilous threat to the entire galaxy, general. I can't stress that enough."

It was frustrating enough making his own parliament acknowledge the threat. The Council even more so. He’d believed the turians would be the most reasonable among the other races, but now he wasn't entirely sure. 

"What is worse, we do not know enough about them to prepare our defenses accordingly." 

The turian general nodded emphatically. Thankfully, Victus seemed a clever enough tactician to understand the gravity of their situation. 

"I share your conviction, Sir, as do the majority of my peers in the Hierarchy, the Primarch of Palaven as well. We're uncertain of the scope of this threat."

 _Save for how truthful and reliable we humans and Shepard are_... Hackett fought down a wave of smoldering anger in the wake of the flustered thought. With an effort, he kept his features smooth. 

"I was there at the Citadel two years ago, commanding our fleet against that--- thing. And I experienced in person what it took to defeat _one_ Reaper. " He held up a finger before him. 

"Sovereign wasn't acting alone. But what if I told you that neither was the Reaper Harbinger at Bahak?" Hackett paused to let the intel sink in. Victus's intelligent, amber-colored eyes stared intently into his.

"Not only was the relay at Bahak an Alpha relay with a dozen-or-so Reapers waiting at the other side. We have reason to believe it was intended as a _full-scale_ Reaper invasion."

Victus straightened in his chair. "What do you mean?"

Hackett sighed. "Exactly what it sounds like. We couldn't assess their number but there aooeared to be more than a dozen prepared to invade through the Alpha relay. What troubles me, general, is that based on Sovereign's power, even an invasion of less than a hundred such Sovereign-seized Reapers might be well enough to wipe us all out." 

Suddenly tired to his bones, he ran a hand over his face. Victus remained silent, his intelligent eyes distant. 

Turians didn't take the concept of honor lightly, so Hackett would go for that. "If your Hierarchy doesn't trust humanity, then trust _my_ word of honor. They'll likely be here within a year and a half, tops."

He didn't particularly like the pleading tone in his own voice. But this was greater than race and certainly more important than his personal pride.

A mandible flared in concern on the general. Or so Hackett interpreted it at least.

"We haven' been able to make any speed projections based on the Sovereign, either. in the dark about their actual speed?" Victus chimed in, and Hackett shrugged. “We've tried and based on various speed projections our estimates all end up between twelve two eighteen Earth months from now.”

Victus's eyes darted away from the Admiral and out the window behind the man, into the dark space far away, as if searching for where the creatures hid. He made a calculation into turian time.

¤¤¤

On the other side of the small coffee table, the Fleet Admiral gave him a weighing stare, lifted his arms, and activated his omnitool.

Hesitating for a moment with his fingers above the orange keyboard, Adrien monitored in astonishment how his host's long fingers then flew nimbly over the keys. 

_How's it even possible for human fingers not to tangle?_

Finishing in focused silence whatever he was uploading, Hackett ordered the VI to display all Threat condition Saber One-logistics plans with code word _Harbinger._

Then the steel blue, uncanny human eyes landed on Adrien again.

"What I'm about to reveal is for your and the Primarch's eyes _only_."

Adrien bent his plated head politely. "Of course, Admiral. You have my word," and curiosity caused the usual tickling inside his carapace where his spine began. What was he about to see?

The VI's pleasant female voice chirped its affirmatives and began displaying slides of alternating supply chains. It went at a fast tempo but soon, Adrien had picked up what he saw; an impressive effort to plan and map logistical routes with back-ups.

Adrien felt his mandibles widen and remain outstretched in flabbergasted awe. What he glimpsed were extensive, far-reaching logistical plans for a long-term war. Definitely meticulous in all their diligence: Alternative routes based on different relays' galaxy-wide status, planets and systems sorted after its resources; shipyards; evacuation plans for colonies, emergency com buoy-routes. Everything except military attack-plans.

"These are not _drafts_ , Victus... I began to outline these months ago. After Bahak." 

The Fleet Admiral pointed casually with a thumb at the current slide. Yet, his piercing eyes remained on Adrien, scouring his features almost cautiously. And Victus understood what he saw. What it meant. These were impeccable plans, simply astounding. And from what he could discern, the zealous work of a mastermind. 

The importance of this minute work and the leap of faith by the Admiral was as humbling. And above all; it showed that the highest tier among Alliance Navy indeed took this seriously. 

Fascinated and with a new sense of respect, Adrien shook his head. "Looks like you planned for the worst," and cursed himself silently for stating the obvious. 

The Admiral eyed him with what appeared to be a hint of a regretful smile. "In my position, I don't have the luxury to disregard the bits and pieces of evidence that we have received. Evidence that too many innocents already paid the ultimate price for." 

Grim-faced, Hackett pulled back in his seat, placing his elbows on the armrests and fingertips against each other. "It's never ideal with prolonged wars, but this isn't about winning or losing a _war_. It may very well be all about avoiding getting wiped out as races..."

Quietly the two shared a somber look before Victus reached for his cup on the table, threw an eye at the new slide - and slowly put the cup back down. 

It almost missed the table.

Astounded, Adrien wiggled a talon at the now disappeared slide. "Was that what I think it was, Sir?.." 

Embedded last among the other slides and easily missed, a particular slide showed Alliance evacuation routes to Palaven - and many other major inhabited homeworlds.

The general could have sworn the Admiral's eyes twinkled. 

"You mean the evacuation aid-routes?" The Admiral knew precisely which slide he meant and had obviously planned for Alliance evacuation- and rescue-lines to the _other_ race's homeworlds as well. 

His astonishment created a humming sound deep in Adrien's chest, a specific turian sound, and so low that the Admiral's human hearing wouldn't pick up anything but a low-frequency vibration in the air between them. 

Adrien Victus bowed his head. "Thank you…" His voice trembled and caused the dual chords to almost sing with emotion. He wasn't sure his people would need any assistance and was beside the point anyway. What caused his astonishment and gratitude was the sincerity and solidarity those plans showed. And that his host hadn't emphasized this slide at all.

Considering this human's solid reputation as a strategic mastermind, Adrien trusted the man. How couldn't he, after watching these meticulous plans for a Reaper war sure in the coming? Except for the less prominent scents of the earlier mating ritual, Hackett's scent had remained sincere and solid throughout. 

The human Fleet Admiral had Adrien's wholehearted support. He would recommend his Primarch and peers to prepare accordingly, just as the Alliance Navy had.

"Not only am I too genuinely convinced of this threat. I'm also truly humbled and honored by the trust you place in me, Admiral." Adrien said formally.

"Thank you," Admiral Hackett replied politely and bowed his head slightly, secretly relieved. 

"But I take it you don't particularly appreciate being caught off guard, sir," Adrien jested suddenly, and Admiral Hackett's thick, grey eyebrows arched in surprise. 

"Guilty," the man admitted straight-on, a faint smile tugging one corner of his mouth upward. "But name one strategist who appreciates unknown factors?" 

Adrien chuckled. "Fair enough." The two males shared a momentary silence, assessing what had been said and gained.

"The Council needs to take the Reapers seriously…I'm not entirely sure they do," Hackett commented, and Victus snorted.

"Well, long-term with _that_ ," their politics are dominated by long term perspectives – _asari_ politics, to be precise." 

Admiral Hackett let out a deep, audible breath. "So I've noticed, yes." 

"Unfortunately, our counselor is inclined to follow those careful strategies. And for all their swiftness and short lifespans, the Salarians seem pretty conservative, don't they?" Apologetically, Adrien jutted out his hands. "If I may be so frank, Admiral, it is better to let the politicians deal with the Council and continue with the back-channel approach you're already doing."

"Well, I'm inclined to agree," Hackett concurred a tad gloomily, not sure if the turian general took into account what it could mean for the galaxy's civilians.

**_______________________**

**Part II**

The suggestion to put together a joint task force was a sign of Victus' gratitude and of great relief to Hackett.

Therefore Hackett regretted what he had to bring up before his amiable guest left. Hopefully though, his earlier compromise and the mutual liking would be enough not to distance the general and the turians. 

But a gamble it was. "I need to stretch my legs," Hackett murmured and heaved up of his chair to lean against the bookshelf behind it. 

As general Victus rose to his feet as well, Hackett noticed with amusement how the turian first shot a look then another at the row of books in the modern format he leaned against: The whole row was littered with _turian_ classics on warfare, military history, and strategy.

"Yes, I have your read most of your literature. They're surprisingly similar to Sun Tzu and the Art of War. But I guess the wheel only needs inventing once." He harrumphed and crossed his arms over the blue and golden chest, leaning against the shelf adjacent to Adrien's. 

It was time to stage the plan for tonight's second aim.

"Even with preparations as thorough as ours, I fear it will be difficult to withstand the Reapers unless we have enough firepower."

Unusually direct in his reactions since Shepard's visit earlier, Hackett frowned visibly. "Imagine what it would do to crew morale in the long run if all my colleagues and I can offer our soldiers is pea shooters against an enemy like the Reapers…"

¤¤¤  
Adrien didn't know what a 'pea-shooter' was but certainly grasped the gist of it. 

"And I'm indeed grateful for the joint recovery operation we did together after Sovereign had been defeated, and for the Thanix."

Maybe he'd misconstrued it but thought he'd heard an emphasis on 'together'. Determination flitted his host's features, making him look colder, and Adrien stiffened.

Like two commanders abruptly being called to arms, the atmosphere between tensed.

¤¤¤  
 _Just tread carefully and try not make an enemy of the general.  
_ Aloud he said, "I suspect the Thanix guns might prove to be our best weapon against the Reapers. We've already paid for six dreadnought-mounted guns and three dozen to our cruisers. But as you probably know, only four of the largest guns and two dozen tailored for our cruisers, have been delivered so far."

The surprise in general Victus amber eyes didn't elude Hackett. After all, the turian military intentionally delayed the delivery of Thanix guns to the Alliance the last year out of sheer hesitation to lose their military edge. "Expressing something like this after a genuinely interesting and pleasant meeting deplores me, general. But honestly, hadn't it been for humanity and Commander Shepard's intervention on the ground, do you think there would be a Citadel as we know it left? Because I sure don't." 

The bold words left a cumbersome silence in their wake as both veterans stared at each other, melted amber and coral met steely, winterstorm blue, and neither gave away an inch.

The room almost froze.

Finally, the turian sputtered out the words. "And here I thought the recovery operation at the Citadel was a _joint_ turian-human one…" 

_Shrewd,_ Hackett commended quietly, and with mixed emotions in his chest, weighing him down, he went on. "Indeed, general. But how come then that your Office of Technological Reconnaissance specialists smuggled out the pieces of Sovereign's _main_ gun right under our noses, general? Because that is what the Thanix gun is based on. Isn't it?"

Formulated like that, both knew a severe punch when they saw it. 

"We never intended to say anything about it, though. Thinking it would serve our relations better to shut up and simply pay for them." 

¤¤¤  
Reeling, Adrien realized he had been flanked, and felt his mandibles slid tight to his jaw and chin in instant response.

"Really, general? The Hierarchy thought we wouldn't notice how important your smuggling operation was for the development of the Thanix?" 

No mockery tinged his host's words, nor his scent—only a hint of sincere surprise. Which was a scant relief to Adrien, who glared apprehensive at one of the hanging old maps, trying to find an opening that could ease the advantage the Admiral now had.  
And fast.

He berated himself for allowing himself forgetting who sat before him. However genuine and decent this human was, it weren't without good reasons Admiral Steven Hackett had been promoted to supreme commander of the Alliance Navy, after all. 

But for the first time during their meeting, Adrien doubted his negotiating skills and stifled the bemused sigh that threatened to erupt. What was he even doing here? A tactician who belonged on the field with his men. 

"It was subtle all right, I'll give you that." The Fleet Admiral continued evenly, still without smugness in voice or scent. 

"And what about the large piece from the Sovereign which now ornaments your researcher's office on the Citadel? Dr. _Bryson_ was it?.." Adrien felt a tad of confidence return at his quick move, only to disappear as quickly.

"Yes, what about that accounted-for-piece? _What_ would you like to know about it - and the Dr. Byson's research?" Admiral Hackett's words whipped out in an wry challenge.

Refusing to bow, Adrien again fumbled in his mind for _something_ that could regain his footing. Instead Hackett extrapolated.

"Dr. Bryson studied Reapers and their origin years before it came to my attention. As Commander Shepard began to untangle the Reaper threat, I was made aware of Bryson's work." The man's deep, surprisingly pleasant voice regained its earlier calm, Adrien's noticed. 

"Unfortunately, it hasn't yielded anything decisive yet, but what little we have, we're of course willing to share with the Hierarchy. Maybe your scientists can find something we can't from it."

"Sure, but don't say you wouldn't have done the same had you reached the main gun first…"

"Perhaps. On the other hand, what would you have thought of humanity if we confiscated and hid the main pieces of such a powerful weapon from under _your_ noses?"

A thick grey brow lifted in silent question.  
And Hackett was right; sooner or later, his people or the salarians would have found out. And know the humans couldn't be trusted. It would have worsen their relations for a long time ahead. But it was maddening how elegant the Fleet Admiral ducked and foiled Adrien's careful counterattacks. And just by being upfront.

"Our diplomats advised against forcing the Hierarchy to come clean about Thanix's origins. But it's obviously time to remind the turians that it was _us_ who turned the tide and saved everyone's asses at the Citadel. These delays are simply not acceptable, general! And that you can tell your colleagues from me." 

There was only firm steel in the grizzled human's eyes as he jutted out his hand in a sweeping motion before him to underline his stern words. Stubbornly Adrien refused to look away. He needed to make a stand. 

"And given the Reaper threat we still know too damn little about, we _are_ entitled to more guns so that both Turians and humanity are as well prepared as possible." 

Slowly, very slowly Adrien nodded. Being shrewd without honor was for volus or quarians, not turians. And certainly not for _him_. If that's what the Primarch wanted, he should have sent someone else. It didn't mean Adrien liked where this was going one bit however. Especially not when Admiral Hackett continued.

"Thus the Alliance Navy wants its final Thanix delivered to the Arcturus main yard within three months. _Plus_ 25 Thanix suited for our cruisers as a free consolation, within six months from now."

Sneering in protest, he almost heaved up from his chair. "That is as _outrageous_ as it is impossible, Admiral!" 

Shrugging Admiral Hackett nodded courtly. "But not when _your_ fleets received 50 pieces in six months, it wasn't…"

"How did y---?!" Aggravated Adrien interrupted himself. 

This weren't blows; rather knockouts. And as an experienced commander and tactician, Adrien knew that too. A long silence commenced as he assessed what few options he had left.

"Fair enough then." Adrien finally ceded and slumped back in his chair, teeth-gritting and not looking forward at all to the scolding he most likely would receive from Primarch Fedorian.

The question how the Alliance had got their hands on that final piece of intel would have to be investigated - carefully - but he knew defeat when he saw it. It would do no good to bicker about petty details. Reluctantly he admitted that the economic loss would sting but all things considered the Fleet Admiral had a good point. 

When Adrien finally spoke again, he shook his head and jested with a huimor that not quite reached his eyes or voice. "Remind me never to get on your bad side, Admiral."   
But a sullen, bad loser was unbecoming of someone with his stature. Later, he would contemplate and evaluate this meeting and learn from it as from any other defeat. Hopefully he'd end up wiser.

The Admiral, who had remained silent, interrupted his gloomy reflections and surprised him again.

"I thought you should know that we've reached out to a Salarian STG veteran– through back channels – to explore many possibilities to evolve our deep space listening buoys with them. Not much progress there so far, but things are moving now. We'd appreciate if the turians want in on that."

Another earnest boon to smooth things up, Adrien realized as he came to think of something.

"Apropos deep listening-buoys I think I've heard of an Interferometric array-project we have been developing" Adrien scratched a head plate with a gloved talon, it was a classified project but if Admiral Hackett could show him Alliance logistics plans he could offer something back.  
"Alas it's not within my area of expertise or authorization, but it should be possible to share information at least."

"Such arrays are often used to analyze planetary or stellar masses..." Hard to miss the intrigued tone in the Admiral's voice Adrien came to think of the Admiral's penchant for sciences and space exploration.

"Very possible, yes. I do not know enough about it, to dare say for sure. But we'll get back to you A.S.AP."

"Thank you, general. We need to turn every stone here to find an edge against them, whenever and in which number they show up. I'll give our Research & Development a heads up, too." 

\-----------------------------------------

Hackett ended the recording and had the VI summarize their agreement which was authorized by both Commanders. And albeit the jovial mood from before the Thanix discussion didn't return, the tension eased considerably. 

And as Adrien Victus prepared to leave, he thought of the lingering scents of the mating bond in the Admiral's quiet office. Thankfully even his sensitive nose had got used to it by now. Should he mention something about the bond? From what he knew of human biology and culture, he wondered if there was such a thing among humans. And somehow, he sensed that his cool-headed host didn't have a clue what had commenced here before. 

A wry smile erupted inside.

Perhaps a cheap little revenge, or dishonorable even, Adrien couldn't refrain from a remark about the mating bond and as the males said their goodbyes, he mentioned as if in passing.

"Forgive my impertinence, Sir. But may I congratulate you on your mating bond? It's a rare gift even among turians and asari. And mostly a blessing..."

The Admiral's brows furrowed in utter confusion. " _What_?... How…?" He began dumbfounded and stopped. The bewildered expression that momentarily flitted over his striking features let Adrien glimpse the awestruck, stunned man underneath the composed Fleet Admiral's mask. 

It was priceless, absolutely priceless. 

Adrien Victus did his best to hide the grin struggling to unfold, and offered a piece of advice.

"May I also suggest that you search in turian or asari libraries after 'bond mates', sir. It's quite fascinating reading, really. But nothing compared to experiencing a mating bond, I've heard."

He nodded graciously at the Admiral and backed toward the doors.

"And besides the subject of the Thanix, it has been a true honor and pleasure to meet you, Fleet Admiral." With that, general Adrien Victus, emissary of the turian Hierarchy bowed his head, turned and left.

Adrien's mandibles twitched in a wide turian grin as he left the head of the Alliance Navy's office. Suddenly, he actually felt quite alright again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For me personally this third chapter is one of the most important ones I've written about Alliance, Reapers, preparations and co-operation. 
> 
> Unfortunately, we don't know much of this time period from the games. But as always I try my best to create plausible plot that fits with the games and tie together a few of all the loose ends.  
> *Please note that the incorrect time estimates Hackett and Victus makes, are intentionally made wrong by me.   
> *Think of it, we never see how fast the Reapers actually are, in-game. Hence it's impossible for any projection to be accurate. And that also explains why Hackett and the Alliance are caught pretty much pants down. Plus the difficulties with tracking ships in FTL.
> 
> *As a matter of fact there will be an Epilogue as well to wrap up it all. Hopefully it won't take half a year to finish but rather a couple of weeks.

**Author's Note:**

> A word on the mating bond. This is an idea that mix our culturally transcending idea of "soul mates" with Maas' idea of bond mates in her "Court of..." and with the idea of turians having a keen sense of smell.  
> As of now (Fictober 2020) I have the basic idea of it outlined for Shackett.  
> Thing is that I want to balance the strength of their bond without letting it "taking over" the story - or for that matter making it too "fluffy". 
> 
> These two individuals are battle hardened veterans, experienced and used to push aside personal emotions in the line of work.  
> On the other hand it is really intriguing for me to explore what challenges such a bond could bring these two highly professional officers.


End file.
